District Six

Posts / 2

Age / thirteen

Occupation / drug runner

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Kady / cst / she

Rep: 0 pts

"Cici!"

The young girl didn't even drop her hand away from the doorknob at the stern call of her nickname. She knew that, for a normal 13-year-old girl, their father calling their name in this situation was probably to ask where they thought they were going. Normal thirteen-year-old girls wouldn't be preparing to head out into the evening just after curfew. Most girls would be told to go back to their room, or be punished or something. Cici? She just looked over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't get caught." She simply nodded and walked out the front door. Her father didn't need to warn her anymore. After so many years, she was well aware of the consequences of getting caught. Ruining the business, exposing her father, beatings, death. Maybe the punishment would not be towards her directly, but it would affect her completely. She could not get caught. She would not.

Cici checked every single corner before she stepped around it. She wasd careful. She was silent. She slipped into abandoned buildings when she heard someone coming near, holding her breath until they passed. She was careful... It was never safe at night, even if it felt like it was. There could always be someone looking out their window. There could always be a peacekeeper hiding around the corner. There could always be someone. So Cici was cautious as she slipped through the beautiful yard with her hand in her pink bag on her hip. She was careful to not be seen as she pulled her hand out of the bag and dropped the bottle into the jar on the porch. Father had already gotten his money. Father was smart....

But so was Cici. She snatched a flower from their front garden, pushing it into her hair. It wasn't common for people to have simple gardens if they lived outside the victor's village. It was common for the most affluent members of their district to purchase some sort of medication illegally.

It was also common for the peacekeepers to be strutting around near their houses.

Cici took off the moment she heard the peacekeeper shout out, having seen her just as she was slipping back into the shadows. Shit. They would be on alert now. Don't panic. Calm down. She knew these streets like the back of her hand. She knew the short cuts. She knew the hiding spots. She knew that three streets over there was a building that no one used. She knew that in the closet of the kitchen area of that building, there was a small door that led to a crawl space. She knew that the crawl space led to a large basement.

Cici had no clue what the basement was used for in the past, but she knew that the hour she spent sitting in it that night was the only reason she did not get caught. She could have run for hours on end, but if a single peacekeeper had caught her scent it would be all over. She stripped her bag from her body and shoved it into the corner of the room, hiding it under a wooden box. It was a huge risk for her to be leaving her bag there overnight, for she knew that there were others just as knowledgeable of the district's nooks and cranies as she was. She would rather risk leaving it there until morning than being caught with it on her person though.

So Cici slipped out of the basement, brushing cobwebs out of her blonde hair. She made a mistake, though. She had been in a hurry to get home and had neglected to check the corners before she turned. She had been nearly running when she turned the corner and smashed into the man. Peacekeeper! she feared momentarily before noting that the man in front of her was not wearing a white uniform.

"Watch where you're going!" she hissed in a hushed voice, despite having been the one to run into him.

District Six

Posts / 22

Age / Twenty One

Occupation / Dealer

Points /

Offline

Shiver / EST / she/her

Rep: 0 pts

The night felt too close to Strut as he stood on the corner. The tips of his fingers were numb with cold, one hand jammed into the pocket of his jacket and the other pressing a cigarette to his lips. He inhaled a lungful of smoke, letting it sit and seep into his veins before exhaling in a fog. He'd been out half the night traveling from corner to corner, client to client, as clean as he could be himself. After what happened to Travel, after what Mazda had said, he had to stay clean. A high could set him free from all of it, numb him to everything around him so he just didn't have to think about any of it anymore. It felt like whenever his mind caught on Travel, roamed to Mazda, it circled around and around, never making any progress.

A high could push him deeper, though, trap him in reality augmented by a racing heart, a sweating brow, overactive senses of paranoia and imagination. It wasn't as though he ever came down without fear, it wasn't as though he could just ease back into the felt. Even when his high sucked him out of his reality, took him far, far away, actuality was always there to break him again when he fell and right now that reality he was destined to crash into had jagged edges. It was best to stay in it, work out how to get through it without being bashed against them.

It was easier to stay out of your thoughts when you were busy and if Strut had to be sober he would have to stay busy, it was as simple as that. He'd made a lot of money and in turn, he'd spent a lot of money. He'd even visited his mother, dropped off some groceries for her at the house, left some cash in her rainy day fund for when the shakes got too bad. She was in shambles, living in squalor, just as Strut had left her. It didn't matter what he felt about his mother, the visit did exactly what he'd needed it to. It was sobering just to see her.

Now the night pressed in on him on the corner, choking off the smoke he pushed from his lungs. He hung back, though it was past time to get home, though he'd run out of product hours ago, in some futile attempt to avoid the nightly struggle that had replaced his sleep. He would toss and turn both in his bed and in his mind. He couldn't stand it anymore. He didn't want to face it so instead, he faced the intrusive night and then an intrusive girl.

The cigarette flew from Strut's hand as the girl rushed him, rocking him on his heels. The girl was young, looked a little panicked. She hissed at him, told him to watch where he was going and Strut was incapable of doing much more than swearing and throwing his hands in the air. She was the one who had run into him and she was far too young to be out on the streets this late at night. Strut was so on the edge, stone cold sober, his anxiety at an all time high.

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